


The Escape Artist

by halcyin



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:04:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4544187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyin/pseuds/halcyin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray hates where he is: a shitty town in the middle of nowhere, a job at an ass smelling hotel, and living with a disappointed mother. He doesn't think it's possible to leave behind his whole shitty life until an attractive potential murderer shows up at his motel. His whole world is fucked up from then on out with a love for the thrill of an escape. That is until he slips up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Start New Game

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really have any notes besides to thank two great people for reading this over and encouraging me to keep going. <3 i have at least two chapters written already, so the updates shouldn't be too distant. thank you and enjoy!! :) <33
> 
> also, the implied/referenced homophobia only applies to the first couple of chapters.  
> this fanfic has nothing connected to the bbc show the escape artist.

_This better not to be like_ Psycho _from 1960._

That was Ray’s immediate thought as he turned his head from his mindless playing of solitaire to look over towards the doors of the lobby.

Yup. He was dead.

 

There walked in a man, two suitcases in hand, meeting Ray’s brown eyes with bright, mysterious blue ones.

It was three in the morning. And this man was definitely not a trucker that came off the highway. His hair was wind blown (he probably rode a motorcycle there), eyes desperate, and a slight tremor to his hand that was either nerves or adrenaline.

The man looked like he could snap Ray’s neck in an instant and it made him shudder as the blond stepped up to the front desk, concern in those blue eyes for whatever reason. He looked like a goddamn serial killer; dark circles under his eyes, intense stare, and just some I-know-how-to-decompose-a-body-in-acid kind of guy.

Despite being his next victim, Ray couldn’t deny him a stay at the hotel—his boss would murder him before the visitor did. Money was king in the business, even if one of your customers melted a body in their room's bathtub—or whatever the fuck murderers and serial killers did. Ray didn't know anything besides the mass murders, et cetera from Netflix.

 

“Uh,” Ray began, exiting out of solitaire. _Keep a straight face; don’t they usually shoot the front desk first though? Fuck._ “Can I help you?”

The blond haired, blue eyed man seemed to mull over his words, eyebrows knitting together in thought. He nodded, placing one of the suitcases on the desk while Ray managed to maintain a stoic expression.

“Are there dead bodies in that suitcase?” Ray blurted out, eyes going wide at his question. _Shit shit shit shit. You’re gonna die tonight. Fuck, and I was so close to getting my fucking Titan up to level 29, too. You and your big fucking mouth._

Instead of pulling out a pistol from his pocket, the man simply just laughed, a blush coming to his face. “Feels like it. I pack too much.”

Ray couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Okay, so maybe this guy wasn’t one-hundred percent psychopath, but there was still the possibility of a body being in the _other_ bag. Ray tried to push that out of his thoughts and to deal with the situation at hand.

 

“I’d like to book a room, if there’s any open,” the man continued.

Ray nodded, hands flying over the keyboard to start to find the man a room. “First or second floor? Then facing the highway or the gas station?”

“Uh, second floor and facing the gas station?”

Ray hummed. He booked the room, almost sighing at the fact that maybe this guy wasn’t a serial killer coming off the highway at three in the morning. Usually people who wanted to leave the next day would go the first floor and facing the highway for a quick one. He was almost happy, but maybe it would be better if he left.

The man set down his other suitcase, shuffling through his pockets before pulling out a wallet. He placed an ID and his credit card on the counter.

 

“You know,” Ray picked up the ID, studying the face, and made sure to remember the name printed next to the name: James Ryan Haywood. His eyes flashed down to the stranger’s birthdate: December 6th, 1993. He was only two years older than Ray, and made him a bit more curious as to why he was out. This _James_ didn’t seem drunk, or high for that matter.

“You’ll be charged for two nights since check in’s not until seven.”

The man, or now James, shrugged. He sighed and bit his lip, tilting his head to the side. “That’s fine.”

Ray swiped the credit card, entering the digits on the front of it. “Nice name.”

“Thanks,” laughed the other. “But uh, it’s Ryan, not James. So don’t write that down.”

“Oh, okay,” the employee pressed the backspace multiple times, erasing the James Haywood and writing _‘it’s ryan, not james. so don’t write that down’_ instead.

 

“It’s weird.” Ray just couldn’t shut up, could he? “No one comes around here at three o’clock, besides truckers. I take that back, dudes do sometimes but that’s only because there’s a casino a couple miles away. That’s just to bring a chick here and fuck them.”

Ryan didn’t seem phased by the vulgar language, taking his cards back after Ray rang him up. He slid the pieces of plastic into his wallet before returning it to his pocket of his  blue jeans. The older man seemed to be hesitant to answer. “My parents kicked me out. I’ve been on my motorcycle the whole day, my ass is killing me.”

Ray smiled apologetically. Ryan didn’t seem to be a murderer anymore, just some twenty year old on the run. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.

“You room number is 203. Here’s the card.” The younger held it out to him. “Call the front desk if you need anything, man. The name’s Ray.”

“Ray,” the other repeated with a small smile. He picked up his things and headed towards the door. “Ryan. I’ve already said that. Uh,” he chuckled awkwardly, “I’ll be going now before this gets even more awkward, but I thought it might be useful for me to actually say my name.” Ryan laughed.

Ray let a sigh escape his lips after Ryan left. Boy, was he attractive for a potential murderer. Ray shrugged. People came and went in the motel business, so he tried not to dwell on the fact that he was intrigued by the mysterious Ryan Haywood.

 

He had had several people call for a wake up call, room service calls, and for housekeeping around the beginning of his shift a couple days after he’d met Ryan. None from the mysterious 203, though. Instead they were all either from the truckers or typical families passing through who used his little town as a rest stop.

His job was boring, but maybe that's why Ray did it. He didn’t want a high stress job, like working on a farm and shit. Besides, he hated manual labor, so sitting at a desk with a computer in front of him was the best possible job they had to offer in the shit of a town he called home.

Ray could fucking brag to anyone about how good he was at solitaire, minesweeper, and space cadet. Sadly, it was a lame talent to accompany his console gaming prowess.  

 

Oh well. Ray was eighteen, and he was planning on moving as soon as fucking possible. Living in a small town was hell—everyone knew you, and you knew everyone. If something happened, word would be out in a matter of seconds and in the local newspaper by minutes. Now thinking about it, Ray would become the headliner if he did anything significant (but, he highly doubted he _ever_ would).

All Ray was doing with his life was his job (albeit grumpily), crashing at home, sleeping until whenever, and playing video games until he had to go back to work. He was tired of the routine, and with a newcomer that had spiked his interests, there was something worth living for at the moment.

 

Ray was still not dead by halfway through the week, to his surprise.

He stepped behind the counter, throwing his backpack underneath the desk. It was filled up with a random assortment of foods. He had brought his DS to work, too, for when his boss left around eleven, and some redbull to keep him awake if necessary.

It was a quiet day. The families had left earlier that day, along with some of the truckers. But none of them were exactly social with a young employee, only getting wake up calls from their rooms.

He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

Ray took out his phone, not even scrolling down the contact list. To be honest, there were only four people in his contacts. He pressed down one of the contacts and began typing a message.

 

_Today at 10:08pm_

[10:08pm] Ray: hey  
[10:09] Ray: michaellllllllllllll  
[10:10] Ray: michael pls  
[10:10] Ray: i need help  
[10:10] Ray: plus i’m bored, help a guy out

[10:12] Michael: what the fuck do you want? i was trying to play banjo

[10:12] Ray: dude  
[10:13] Ray: there was like a murderer that came in like earlier this week  
[10:13] Ray: forgot to tell u but i need u to look him up

[10:14] Michael: that sounds fucking stupid  
[10:14] Michael: why would a murderer want to come to your shitty motel???

[10:14] Ray: to probably melt a body or something  
[10:15] Ray: can you pls? boss would get suspicious if i had to wipe the internet history

[10:15] Michael: don’t you jack off tho? pornhub’s probably the most recent history with you there

[10:16] Ray: you fucking bet your bottom dollar  
[10:16] Ray: pls michael pls i’ll wake up earlier and play something w/ you

[10:18] Michael: fine, fuck face  
[10:18] Michael: but bf’s complaining  
[10:18] Michael: i’ll try to get it to you by like eleven  
[10:19] Michael: okay?

[10:20] Ray: aye aye captain

 

Ray set his phone off to the side, leaning back in his chair, hands clasped behind his head. It sucked, having a friend that didn’t even live near him. Ray lived on the other side of the country, Michael in Los Santos. When they had met, which had been in a AHTV stream a couple years back, Michael had been living in New Jersey.

Then he had moved.

 

Ray groaned. He could look him up on his phone, but usually Michael found the most information. Whenever there was a customer that intrigued him (which was really rare, although he’d been doing this job for three years), he’d tell Michael. The angry kid would find a good chunk of information on the person if there was any. The motel had seen their fair share of criminals, but Ray hadn’t given a shit about them (until now).

He had no idea how long it’d actually take. Ray didn’t know Michael’s boyfriend since he seemed to avoid the topic every time he brought it up, attention turning back to the computer for an _intense_ game of minesweeper.

The next time he checked the clock (which happened to be 11:03), was when the phone on the front desk rang. Ray sighed, picking it up and putting it to his ear.

 

“Hello? It’s Ray, right?” the oh-so familiar voice said.

Ray couldn’t help but grin (he was pretty sure you weren’t suppose to be happy when you heard a potential murderer on the other line), giddy for at least some distraction at his boring job. “Yeah! What’s up?”

“Uh,” he could hear the chuckle on the other line, “Can I come down there? I was going to ask you over the phone, but, I think it’d be better in person. Besides, I’m kinda lonely.”

“Sure, dude,” Ray said, cleaning up his desk of wrappers, “I’m here till four.”

“Four am?” The deep voice was filled with doubt.

“Fuck yeah. Please come and entertain me.”

“It’s not going to be as entertaining as you think.”

“Anything’s better than playing solitaire again.”

 

Minutes later, there was the blond haired, blue eyed serial killer coming in the doorway. Maybe since it was earlier, and Ray wasn’t running on pure redbull yet, but Ryan Haywood didn’t seem like a serial killer. He had a blue t-shirt, red baseball cap with hair that puffed out from under it, and somewhat dad jeans. Not to mention the stubble and his dorito/Chris Evans portions made the whole look complete. A genuine, small smile crept onto his face.

Didn’t serial killers wear balaclavas and have machetes? Ray didn’t want to find out, but Ryan looked like the exact opposite.

“Do you happen to have an extra computer mouse?”

“That’s the reason why you came down here?”

“Uh, yes?” Ryan asked with a raised eyebrow.

Ray rolled his eyes. Yup. That confirmed it. This guy was a total moron, an attractive one at that. “Yeah, just wait here.”

 

He hopped off his chair, going into the back room and stealing a mouse from one of the two computers. No one would notice, and if they did, Ray could cover it up, somehow.

“Tell me why the fuck you need it,” Ray said as he placed the mouse onto the countertop. He was going to make Ryan stay as long as he could stall, he needed some social interaction once in a while. Now, he was bored and now this was a chance to find out more about the taller.

“For my computer?” Ryan seemed confused, and a bit suspicious, too, by the looks of his arched eyebrows.

“How much money are you willing to pay to borrow it?” Ray asked, grinning.

Ryan rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Are you that desperate for money?”

“Hello? I work at a fucking shitty motel out in the middle of nowhere, of course I want money. Gotta save up the big bucks for games.”

“You game?”

“Hell yeah!”

“That’s why I wanted the mouse,” Ryan explained, “I’m shit with a trackpad.”

Ray’s nose scrunched up in disgust. “You trying to tell me you’re a PC gamer?”

“Fuck consoles.” Ryan laughed.

 

Ray wasn’t sure how long they talked about video games, but it seemed like a while. Ryan had pulled up one of the chairs sitting near the window in front of the desk.

They talked about games from fighters to shooters, and after an hour in Ryan finally had the courage to tell Ray his Xbox gamertag (which was BM Vagabond) and Ray his (which was BrownMan). He even brought up the website, showing Ryan his gamerscore that made the other blush and laugh about how ‘he only did it when he had some extra time on his hands’, unlike Ray.

However, once it hit two o’clock, Ryan’s eyelids began drooping.

“Come here at eleven tomorrow, and show how good of a PC gamer you are.”

Ryan stood up from his chair, stretching his arms over his head. “You want me to bring a game? I’m not sure that computer can handle it.” He pointed to Ray’s hunk of junk on his desk.

The younger shook his head. “No way, fucking old school. Impress me by beating me in Space Cadet.”

“The pinball game?”

“Fuck yeah. Show me what you got, old timer.”

Ryan grinned, and laughed. “I’m only like three years older than you.”

“Actually, two, smartass.”

“Whatever, you’re on.”

 

Ray smiled to himself. Maybe, just maybe, had he actually made a friend. _Mom! Look! I made a friend in real life, finally!_

“I’m not comforting you if you start crying at how amazing I am,” Ryan smirked, standing in the doorway of the lobby.

“You’ll be shitting your pants when you see how good I am.”

“I’ll probably be shitting them when I see how terrible you are.”

“Fuck off,” Ray chuckled.

Ryan laughed in response, turned on his heel, and walked out of the lobby through the sliding doors.

The next day, Ray tried to ignore how much he was actually looking forward to playing stupid shitty Microsoft games with Ryan Haywood.


	2. Dialling Digits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> since i'm procrastinating to avoid homework before school starts, i decided to post this instead! thank you for the support and enjoy!!! ;) <33
> 
> "Dialling Digits - GTA Online: Call for gang backup for the first time."

It was ten o’clock when Ryan finally got there, standing awkwardly in front of the desk, shuffling his feet in nervousness.

Ray grinned up at the other when he saw the familiar face, attempting to crack his knuckles (but to no avail, he was fucking weak as shit).

 

He stood up from his desk, letting Ryan shuffle over and take a seat in the old, spiny chair. “This thing feels like shit.”

“Think about my poor back.”

“Your back is probably perfectly fine.”

“Wanna feel it for yourself?”

 

Ryan almost looked repulsed, but was evidently still amused. “No, thanks.”

“You’re missing out on feeling these amazing muscle.” 

“You’re as thin as a stick. I could snap you in half.”

Ray glared at him, pulling up one of the other chairs from the back room, dragging it besides Ryan and taking a seat. “You’re just boasting cause you’re buff.”

 Ryan typed ‘Space Cadet’ in the search bar and pulled it up on the computer.  “I’m not as buff as you think.”

“You show me, and I'll tell you.” Ray laughed.

He could see Ryan’s face with a thick blush, sputtering to find an answer.

“That’s what I thought.” He grinned and watched Ryan start to play.

       

They had been playing together for the past week, friendly competitions in all the shitty Microsoft games they could find. They downloaded a bunch, Ray hiding it in a folder in the back of the computer. If his boss found out, or any other employee who worked the front desk, all eyes would go to Ray.

Thanks to his mother, everyone knew about his love for video games (thanks, Mom).

“You fucking suck,” Ray murmured, sitting next to the blond as Ryan sat in his chair in front of his computer, playing minesweeper.

“I told you, I actually play good games, not these.”

Ray deadpanned. “What, you mean this isn’t a good game?”

 

Ryan rolled his eyes (he seemed to do that a lot with Ray, but usually everyone did), puffing out his cheeks. “It’s a fantastic game. I would buy it if I had to,” he sarcastically grunted.

 “You know, Microsoft wants fifty dollars for solitaire on Windows 10.”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

“I shit you not,” Ray answered. He watched Ryan’s fingers rapidly tap for the bumpers to move, the other cursing when he missed the ball.

“Probably ‘cause the update’s free.”

“It’s probably not even worth the update.”

“True. Hopefully it’s just not as shitty as Windows 8.”

“It probably is,” Ray murmured.

 

Ray got more comfy in his chair, feeling his phone buzz in his pocket. Ryan casually glanced at him, hearing the vibrator, before looking back at the computer.

“Sorry, that was the vibrator up my butt.” Ray pulled out his phone.

“Turn it down. It’s fucking loud.” Ryan grumbled, trying to focus on his game.

 

_1 new iMessage at 12:42am_

[12:42am] Michael: i still haven’t found anything on that guy yet  
[12:43] Michael: doesn’t seem like he’s a murderer

[12:44] Ray: yeah, i take that back  
[12:44] Ray: he’s p chill  
[12:44] Ray: we’ve been playing games like my whole fucking shift

[12:45] Michael: sorry i haven’t texted you in a couple days  
[12:46] Michael: i’ve had a crap week

[12:46] Ray: that’s okay  
[12:46] Ray: rye’s been keeping me company

[12:46] Michael: whoa  
[12:47] Michael: you already got a fucking nickname for him

[12:47] Ray: fuck yeah  
[12:47] Ray: sry you’re jealous, mikey  
[12:48] Ray: we’ve been bonding for the whole week  
[12:48] Ray: he likes gaming  
[12:49] Ray: he fucking sucks at minesweeper though  
[12:49] Ray: i found out he ran away from home b/c he’s gay  
[12:50] Ray: which fucking sucks  
[12:50] Ray: feel bad for him  
[12:51] Ray: i guess we’re in the same boat, y’know?

[12:51] Michael: don’t tell me you’ve fucked him  
[12:51] Michael: i need to fucking make sure this guy’s not shady  
[12:52] Michael: i’ll fuck him up if he hurts you  
[12:52] Michael: he’ll be in the hospital for a fucking year

 

Ray smiled down at his messages, leaning back in his chair, glancing over at Ryan. Yeah, he was pretty attractive. He was chill, kind, and funny. He had a dark sense of humor, but it was entertaining to say the least. Ray was happy, he’d love to have a friend like Ryan around him all of the time.

He felt his phone buzz again after a couple of minutes of sitting there and pondering, not catching Ryan’s eye when he glanced back at him.

 

“Ray,” he heard the other gently say.

“‘Sup?”

“I’ve been lying to you.”

Ray’s eyebrows rose. “What, about how you’re a good gamer?” He teased, biting down on his tongue.  _Shit. Please don’t be a murderer. I don’t want Michael to hunt you down. You’re somewhat cool and I’m lonely._

“I didn’t run away from home.” Ryan hesitated. “Originally, I did. That was when I was eighteen. Like I said, my parents kicked me out because I was gay. But, uh, to make money to support myself, I started robbing stores to get shit.”

 

Ray let out a breath he had been holding in. Okay, that wasn’t so bad. He could handle a criminal for a friend. No, no he couldn’t. 

To let his mind process it all, he decided that maybe checking his phone was a better idea than yelling at Ryan in the moment, leaving the other to stare blankly at the computer screen.

 

[12:57am] Michael: i’ll snap his neck in half 

[1:05] Ray: shit  
[1:05] Ray: haha  
[1:06] Ray: about that  
[1:06] Ray: he literally just told me that he robbed a bunch of places  
[1:06] Ray: um 

[1:07] Michael: oh my fucking god  
[1:07] Michael: i swear to go if he lays a fucking finger on you  
[1:07] Michael: just leave, don’t even talk to him

[1:07] Ray: fuck  
[1:07] Ray: and he’s such a fucking nice guy too  
[1:08] Ray: damn it

[1:08] Michael: if you get yourself killed i swear 

[1:08] Ray: is it bad i’m tempted to turn him into get the money?  
[1:08] Ray: i bet it’s a lot

[1:09] Michael: g o d

 

“So, what, you’re wanted by the police?” Ray asked, looking up from his phone.

“Uh… Yup.”

“Oh my god.” Ray groaned, rubbing his forehead. “Couldn’t you just be a fucking normal person? Could I at least have one normal person for a friend?”

“I’m sorry,” Ryan mumbled.

“Shut the fuck up.” He moaned, reeling back in his chair. “If I get fired for letting you stay I swear to god.” Unfortunately, Ray happened to look right after he said that, seeing Ryan’s face brighten up from defeat.

“I won’t steal any shit.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise me.” Ray held out his hand, Ryan scoffing but seeing that Ray was serious, he wrapped his pinky around the other’s.

“How about a round of Tetris?” Ryan tried.

 

Ray simply glared at the other, crossing his arms over his chest. “You killed it.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve only pickpocketed and stuff, it’s not like I've murdered anybody,” the taller defended. 

“Not yet.” 

“I won’t, okay? And I won’t hurt you. Even though we haven’t known each other for long, I wouldn’t hurt you, Ray. You’re basically the only friend I have.”

Ray scoffed. “That’s something a murderer would say.”

Ryan let out a puff of air from his lips, rolling his eyes. “I bet.”

Ray sat there for a while, letting the anger ride out and slowly dissipate, a sigh escaping his lips. It wasn’t any use, he liked Ryan. He was his only real life friend, and brightened Ray’s mood one hundred percent.

 

“Since you’re a criminal,” Ray began, earning another annoyed look from Ryan, “how long you staying?”

“Uh, I dunno.” The other started, taking his hands away from the keyboard once he lost the game he’d been playing. “I was just planning on a month. You want me to leave?”

“No,” Ray shrugged. “You’re the only friend I have.” He hesitated. “I mean, I have Michael, but we can only text and FaceTime. You’re a real person. Plus, it’s fun to see your defeated looks after I beat your ass at playing Tetris online. Not now though, since you’re kind of a dick for not telling me earlier.”

“What was I supposed to do?” He gestured wildly, “I can’t just walk into a motel and say ‘Give me a room, otherwise I’ll steal your shitty Windows 99 computer!’”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have given you a room then. I’m tired of my useless paperclip.” 

Ryan sent daggers in his direction. “It’s not like it’s my fault! I was kicked out of my house—I had to do something to survive! Pickpocketing and robbing was literally the only thing I could do. I’m still shit-ass poor and I have nowhere to live but this goddamned shit of a motel. I’m sorry.”

“Apology only accept if you give me all the money in the world,” Ray supplemented, taking his phone in his hands again to check his messages.

 

_3 unread iMessages from Michael at 1:15am_

[1:15am] Michael: hello??  
[1:15] Michael: ray  
[1:17] Michael: MOTHERFUCKER ANSWER

[1:20] Ray: hey yeah sorry  
[1:20] Ray: i was yelling at the criminal  
[1:20] Ray: i can’t believe he didn’t fucking tell me sooner  
[1:20] Ray: moron

[1:21] Michael: don’t you fucking dare hang out w/ him

[1:21] Ray: he’s not that bad of a guy  
[1:22] Ray: i trust him less obviously  
[1:22] Ray: but it’s worth giving him another chance  
[1:22] Ray: it might happen to me one day

[1:23] Michael: you still haven’t fucking told her?

[1:24] Ray: no  
[1:24] Ray: what’s the point?  
[1:26] Ray: the sooner i say something  
[1:26] Ray: the sooner i’ll be kicked out too  
[1:26] Ray: as fucking stupid as it sounds, he’s basically my future

[1:27] Michael: shut up  
[1:27] Michael: if it comes to that  
[1:28] Michael: i’ll fucking fly there and kidnap you

[1:28] Ray: might as well tell her sooner then  
[1:29] Ray: anywhere’s fucking better than here  
[1:30] Ray: he’s still a dick tho

[1:31] Michael: you think??? :/

 

“Whatever,” Ryan began again, standing up from his chair and moving to walk out behind the desk, Ray’s eyes following him, glancing up from the phone. “Let me make it up to you—come to my room tomorrow? I’ll buy some pizza, bring your Xbox, and maybe we can hang out before your shift?” He grabbed the notepad and a pen, scribbling something down as he spoke.

He folded it up and handed it to Ray. “See you tomorrow. I am sorry both at what happened and that you’re an idiot sometimes (like now), but please don’t hate me forever?”

“I’ll try not to.” Ray offered. He smiled just a little bit, mixed feelings rising in his chest. He glanced down at the note, unfolding it after Ryan was out of his sights.

‘1 (762) 731-8066 — text me. I meant to give this to you earlier. Don’t try to bug me too much and I am really sorry, seriously. Ryan.’

“I guess pizza counts for something,” Ray murmured to himself.


	3. A Friendship Resurrected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A Friendship Resurrected: With friends like this who needs enemies?"  
> Secret achievement. Worth 10 gamerscore.

_New iMessage to +1 762 731 8066 at 11:03am_

[11:03am] Ray: hey dickhead  
[11:03am] Ray: this better not be a fake number  
[11:03am] Ray: or i swear to god

[11:05am] Ryan: Why are you up so earlier?  
[11:06am] Ryan: Don’t you normally stay asleep till one or something?

[11:06am] Ray: i’ve been playing game w/ michael

[11:07am] Ryan: Michael?

[11:08am] Ray: ye. he’s my best friend  
[11:08am] Ray: i’ll take you up on that pizza offer tho

[11:08am] Ryan: Oh, okay. Uh, what time? I’m basically free forever.  
[11:09am] Ryan: Until the police find me.

[11:09am] Ray: you’re ruining the mood  
[11:09am] Ray: i forgive you

[11:10am] Ryan: Apology accepted. It’s a normal human reaction to a situation like that.

[11:12am] Ray: how about at five?

[11:12am] Ryan: Sounds good to me. You remember my room #?

[11:13am] Ray: of course

 

Ray sighed into the microphone, Michael’s voice crackling to life on the other side.

“You made your plans?” Michael said in his ear.

Ray nodded before saying ‘yes’, figuring that Michael couldn’t see him on the other side of their co-op.

“Fuck-“ The other said, the death message appearing on the screen before he continued on talking, “I don’t trust this fucker.”

 

“Seriously, Michael, I can take care of myself. I’m not helpless; I can handle it. He’s not so bad.” Ray murmured, fingers tapping at the buttons furiously in attempt to shoot the opposite team.

“Still doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you,” the redhead grumbled on the other line, “you’ve only known him for a week and he drops a bomb like that. What the fuck?”

“It’s a thing called trust.”

“Smartass. Still, you better not do anything fucking shady, alright? Not till I meet this ‘Ryan Haywood’.”

“I don’t say Ryan Haywood like that.”

“Uh-huh. Whatever.” Ray could hear the shit-eating grin from the other line, making him grimace as he shot down Michael’s character with a sniper rifle.

 

Four hours of gaming with Michael went on until his friend claimed he had to go, something about his boss wanted to have a meeting or something.  Ray had simply shrugged with a deep sigh, putting his controller down and sitting in the couch of his living room.

“Ray? Are you done?” A feminine voice said, his mother rounding the corner, a dish and a rag in her hands.

Ray flashed her a reassuring smile. “Yeah.”

She reflected the smile, stepping back into the kitchen.

Ray looked down at his hands, inhaling and pushing down the bile rising in his throat. He could tell her right? He could do this. The dark haired boy moved to the television first, unplugging his Xbox and taking all of the cords, throwing it in a bag and plopping it down on the couch. He could do this…

 

He shoved his hands into his pockets, walking into the kitchen and standing at the counter, waiting till his mother looked up at him with curious eyes. “Something wrong, honey?”

Ray flinched, a fake, forced smile appearing on his lips. He could see her suspicions rise. “I’m, uh, going to hang out with a friend in a little.” He swallowed thickly. Ryan won’t be busy three hours earlier, right? Ha…

His mother’s eyes practically brightened. “Oh, really?”

“Yup,” Ray said, ducking her gaze and heading over to the fridge, pulling out a Caprisun. “He’s a gamer too, so we’re going to play some games before my shift.”

Ray didn’t bother looking back at his mother. He could imagine the disappointment in her eyes, because fuck, he had to hang out with a guy.  Ray wasn’t social in general, so making a friend was something impressive, but the fact Ryan wasn’t a girl hurt just a bit.

 

He could hear her soft sigh as he shoved the straw into the pouch. “You should invite him over! How long is he in town for?”

 _You’re such a bad liar_ , his mind screamed as he swallowed. “Uh, he said for maybe two more weeks?”

“I’d love to meet him. Why don’t you invite him over? It’s unfortunate you can’t meet Michael, though.”

Ray didn’t answer. He didn’t have the power in him to. He didn’t want his mother to meet Ryan. He didn’t want the other just to lie about what he’d done as much as the past didn’t matter. Ray was focused on the future, and if he planned on staying friends with Ryan, he couldn’t put up lying to his mother anymore. Lying about both his sexuality and his only real life friend being a criminal. He’d put up with it as long as he possibly could before he broke, but Ray was already close to the edge.

His mother didn’t say anything as he exiting the kitchen, only hearing her soft humming as she went back to cleaning the dishes.

Ray took out his phone as he stepped back into the living room, slinging the bag over his shoulder, sighing.

 

_Today at 2:41pm_

[2:41pm] Ray: hey rye

[2:44] Ryan: Yeah?

[2:44] Ray: can i come over now?

[2:45] Ryan: Absolutely. But just, um, if it’s messy, sorry.  
[2:45] Ryan: Is something wrong?  
[2:45] Ryan: I thought you were mad at me.

[2:47] Ray: something like that but  
[2:48] Ray: i don’t want to stay w/ my mom  
[2:48] Ray: i may have told her about you  
[2:48] Ray: and now she wants to meet you

[2:49] Ryan: That’s not so bad. I’d love to meet her.  
[2:50] Ryan: Why is that bad? I don’t understand.  
[2:51] Ryan: Besides the potential embarrassment…

Ray groaned as he walked across the street, sticking to the sidewalks and heading in the general direction of the hotel. Ray could be oblivious (he would admit that), but definitely Ryan too. It was almost cute, to say the least.

[2:52] Ray: she’s gonna ask you who the fuck you are  
[2:52] Ray: and what your job is  
[2:52] Ray: and if you have a girlfriend  
[2:53] Ray: i don’t think i sit through another lecture of how i should have a girlfriend by now

[2:54] Ryan: It’s all right. I dealt with family reunions for twenty years. I think I can handle your mother, Ray.

[2:55] Ray: christ  
[2:56] Ray: ryan,  
[2:57] Ray: im tyring to tell you that im gay too  
[2:57] Ray: i want to tell her so badly  
[2:58] Ray: but if I tell her,  
[2:59] Ray: i’ll end up on the streets too. i don’t even have my license so i can’t really go fucking far. i’m literally stuck here for the rest of my fucking life and it’s killing me to not tell her, but it’ll kill me if i tell her too.

 

Ray could feel the tears prick his eyes as he sent the message (it was too early to cry anyways), breathing deeply to keep his heart rate under control. He was not going to have a panic attack at the crosswalk, a couple blocks from the hotel. He rather have one near Ryan, for at least it’d be with someone he knew and not just huddled in the grass, trying to hold onto reality for dear life.

[3:01] Ryan: Oh, Ray.  
[3:01] Ryan: I’m really sorry, I know.  
[3:02] Ryan: The pizza will help to some extent.  
[3:02] Ryan: I’m free right now, though. You brought your Xbox?

He glanced down at his phone, a small smile cracking onto his face, letting the tears trickle down his cheeks. _God, this guy is such a big dork._ He thought to himself as his fingers tapped the screen to reply.

 

[3:03] Ray: yeah

[3:03] Ryan: And some games?

[3:03] Ray: duh

[3:04] Ryan: Just make sure you check both ways before the street and just off your damn phone. I’m not playing video games with you at the hospital literally miles away from here.

[3:05] Ray: if that ever happens, you fucking better or i will hunt you down  
[3:05] Ray: and make you  
[3:05] Ray: even if you have to play with michael and i

[3:06] Ryan: Pay attention to the road.

[3:07] Ray: shut up <3

 

He could feel his phone buzz in his pocket after sliding it in, assuming that Ryan had already replied to his text. He secured the bag on his shoulder, continuing his walk along the quiet town.

It was most likely quiet because it was a Friday. Some people went out to the small city a couple miles out, while others tended to their farms and local businesses. There were literally no cars in sight besides the ones on the highway, near the exit where the motel sat.

The only busy spot there was, as Ray approached the motel, the gas station (probably the restrooms too) and the motel, the gas station being the more popular of the two. The only thing busy in the motel was probably the pool. He could hear the screaming of kids splashing around from where he stood waiting for the light.

A small smile slipped onto his features as he imagined him and Ryan in the pool, chilling and lounging around. The fact was that Ray couldn’t swim, but hopefully, in his daydream, Ryan could and would make sure he would stay afloat. Ryan was gentleman-like. Ray suspected he would.

With Ryan back on his mind, Ray took out his phone while he waited for the light to turn, a couple of cars coming off the highway zooming by.

 

[3:08] Ryan: Are you supposed to put <3 to end a conversation or something?

[3:14] Ray: god  
[3:14] Ray: you sound like an old man

[3:17] Ryan: It’s an honest question!

[3:17] Ray: w/e you say  
[3:18] Ray: im here, tho  
[3:18] Ray: get ready to see how fucking good i am

[3:19] Ryan: Yeah right.  
[3:19] Ryan: Hurry up and get in here before my arm gets tired of holding open the door.  
[3:20] Ryan: Please. <3  
[3:20] Ryan: (I used it right so shut up. <3)

 

Ray headed to the block of motel rooms nearest the gas station, climbing up one flight of the stairs on the outside of the building, and went down three rooms.

There was Ryan, standing in the doorway of his room, phone in hand and the music playing of some game he was using to preoccupy himself.

Ray couldn’t help but smile to himself. Yup. He’d been right, Ryan was a gentleman despite how he was on his phone. He’d gone to wait for Ray.

“Yo,” Ray greeted, holding out the bag that contained his Xbox to the taller blond in the threshold.

Ryan smiled happily, but frowned at the bag and sighed when Ray started, pouting, lugging the electronic into the room.

To Ray’s standards, he didn’t find the room too messy. Yeah, the desk where the coffeemaker sat was cluttered, nightstand too (wallet, Sprite, and a book amongst other things), but otherwise it wasn’t too bad. Ray would have liked it neater, closing the door behind them and crossing his arms. Ryan pulled out the Xbox, moving to hook it up to the television.

 

“What games did you bring?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Ray grinned.

Once Ryan got the machine set up after pulling out the television to get to the nitty-gritty, they hooked up the Xbox. Ray made himself comfortable on the bed, Ryan wordlessly walking over to him. The younger held out a controller.

“Now can you tell me what we’re going to play?”

“Tetris.” Ray smirked.

“Jesus christ.” Ryan groaned as Ray booted up the game.

 

They played for an hour or so before it became apparent that they were both hungry. Like promised, Ryan ordered the pizza from another town, going back to their gaming since the delivery may be a while.

It wasn’t too long till someone knocked on the door, Ryan getting up and paying the poor kid a fair amount of cash for his troubles. He opened the container open, the smell of the greasy pizza filled the air.

Ray pulled out a slice, biting the cheese off that connected itself to the other slices. He watched as Ryan got a napkin to soak up some of the grease, chuckling as he watched Ray eat it sloppily and in a manner similar to that of an animal.

“You know,” Ray said with a mouthful of pizza. Ryan held up a finger to silence him, leaning forward and scrubbing a big patch of grease Ray had gotten on the side of his face with a laugh. The shorter rolled his eyes, continuing. “When you came here, I thought you were totally a murderer. Who comes to a motel at two in the morning?”

“Uh, I do. I mean I guess you weren’t not totally wrong,” Ryan laughed, Ray glad to see that he wasn’t taking visible offence. “I do know how to get rid of a body if the problem ever arises.”

With a scowl, Ray crossed his arms after finishing that slice of pizza. “Of course you would fucking know.”

Ryan gave a shrug and a frantic gesture. “Hey! I’ve watched murder mysteries before and shit. I’m not that disconnected. By the way, it’s sodium hydroxide.”

“Oh my fucking god. Too soon.”

“I’m just saying!”

The younger reached for another slice of pizza, forcefully shoving it into Ryan’s face with a grin and trying to land it into his mouth. Ryan pulled back and waited till Ray stopped, grabbing the piece and chomping down on it.

 

“Lye,” Ryan said, making Ray raise his eyebrow.

“What?” Ray said with a mouthful of pizza.

He nodded with a smile. “That’s what sodium hydroxide is. There was an Italian murderer who decomposed her victims and turned them into tea cakes and soap.”

“That’s fucking disgusting. I’m trying to eat, please.” Ray groaned.

Ryan smiled in reply, nose scrunching up as well. “Imagine eating that. I wonder what it would taste like?”

“Please don’t ever tell me when you find out,” Ray squirmed at the thought, looking away in disgust.

Ryan gave a soft laugh, one that told him that he didn’t plan on doing that anytime soon, and reached for his controller after wiping his hands of grease.

 

“Ready for another round?”

“You bet.”

They both grinned as Ray reached for his controller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> questions, concerns, etc.? feel free to contact me at narvayz.tumblr.com!!!! thank you so much for reading, and all the feedback so far is extremely appreciated!! <33
> 
> also, the italian murderer who ryan talks about, her name is Leonarda Cianciulli. she's pretty interesting, but the wiki goes into detail accounts and is kinda gross. research at your own risk!


	4. You and Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally came back to this fanfic to proof read this & post it. sorry for the delay! as for the next chapter, i have no idea when it'll be up since i'm still working on it. but as always, enjoy!  
> warning: this chapter does contain a suicidal thought, but if this does come up more when i write it, i'll add it to the tags. so sorry! this is the last chapter to have a direct reference to homophobia.  
> but of course, this does not reflect on ray's actual mom in real life at all. thanks!

By now, after two months of knowing each other, Ryan and Ray had developed a routine.

Ryan would be gone for at least two days, shamefully with other’s wallets in his pockets when he returned back to the town. It had been uncomfortable at first when Ryan told him what he was exactly doing, but Ray always accepted the apology when Ryan offered him a night of pizza and gaming before his shift.

Ray didn’t ask where he was going, or who he stole the money from. Ignorance was bliss. Ryan appreciated that he didn’t pry, since he wasn’t exactly proud of what he did. But it was for Ray, to be honest. Pizza, video games, saving up to buy his own console—it was all for him and Ryan knew Ray was the only thing keeping him in the shit of a motel and town.

 

It had happened so quickly. Ray enjoyed every moment he had with Ryan. He gave him warmth in his chest, and a calmness only Ryan could bring to him. He found himself visiting the other's room more than his own, having countless sleepovers and laughing as Ryan persuaded Ray to take the bed while he curled up in the chair. Eventually, they compromised, and Ryan seemed to edge closer to Ray every time they flopped into his bed.

It had happened around six in the morning. Ryan had had trouble falling asleep, constantly getting texts from Ray, mindless chatter and sarcastic comments about video games. Around five hours prior he had finally turned over his phone and promptly fell asleep.

Ryan pried his head from his pillow, surprised to feel the phone vibrating. With a groan, he answered it, knowing full well who it was.

 

“Hello?”

“Ryan?” came a voice that was familiar, but was something Ryan had never expected to hear coming from Ray. His voice was cracking even from only saying one word, his breathing heavy in the microphone, and a constant gasp for air.

Ryan immediately got out of bed, opening one of the curtains to the outside of the motel room to peer into the soft light of morning. “What’s wrong?” he softly murmured.

“I told my mom.” There was heavy sniffling on the other line and a choked back sob, “Can I come over, please?”

 

Ryan’s eyebrows knitted, a pang hitting him hard in his chest at the visible defeat and rejection in Ray’s voice. It was hurting him as much as the younger, alas it couldn’t measure, but it hurt him in its own way. He stood up, grabbing his coat and throwing on his shoes. “Of course. I’ll meet you halfway.”

Ray laughed brokenly. “I have my Xbox and some clothes.”

“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No,” the other sniffled. “I need to leave.”

“I know. Where are you? Make sure you pay attention to the road. Please.” Ryan sighed worriedly, looking up at the street sign once he made it down the stairs and past the parking lot.

“I—” there was a small laugh, “I can see you.”

Ryan let his hand fall away from his ear, eyes darting around to find Ray. He spotted the other, a weak smile gracing his features, on the sidewalk heading towards him. A backpack was secured on his back, phone in one hand and Ryan’s other motel key in the other.

 

Making sure to check both ways, Ryan started jogging over to Ray before speeding across to wrap his arms hastily around the other protectively.

“Were you just expecting me to let you in?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow

“Sorta.” Ray croaked.

The taller inhaled loudly, rubbing a small comforting circle into Ray’s upper back. “Well, you’re not wrong. Whenever you need me, I’ll be here. How you are feeling?” He quietly approached.

He felt Ray pressed his face into the crook of his neck, evidently tears wetting his skin. “I’m fine.”

 

The taller’s arms drifted down to Ray’s arms, rubbing them in comfort and to possible restore some warmth though he was in a black hoodie, not wanting the younger to catch a cold while standing out here in the coldness of dawn.

Ryan took a step back, studying him over to make sure that nothing was indeed broken. Nothing seemed out of place body wise, save for puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Ray’s clothing was ruffled and hair incredibly messed up.

It felt like ages passed as Ryan stood there and studied him, thinking over things he could do just to make Ray happy again. The only words he could find, though, brought up the subject again. “Did she kick you out?”

Ray averted his eyes, bringing a hand up to wipe away the tears. He shook his head in 'no', breath hitching as he tried to vocalize his answer. “I know she’s disappointed, and I see it every time I look at her. I need to be anywhere but with her. I’ll fucking kill myself if I stay any longer.”

 

Ryan sighed and shifted his weight to his other foot. Ray didn’t want his sympathies. He didn’t want to talk about it— Ryan understood. He held his breath, glancing back down at the dark haired boy who was looking down at the ground gloomily.

It was worse than he had experienced it. Ryan had felt like shit after he was kicked out, but seeing the broken look in Ray’s arms crushed something in his chest and his stomach contorted uncomfortably. He wanted to see the smile on Ray’s face, even the egotistical one when he beat him in a game. He wanted him to be happy and protect him from all evil. Ray didn’t deserve it. Not one bit of the shitty things that happened to me, and maybe Ryan could fix that. Make him happy for once.

“Run away with me.” Ryan felt the words slip easily from his mouth.

Running away seemed like the greatest thing on the planet. Just him and his only friend, it’d all be okay. Ray got kicked out—that was a fact—and this town would plague him with negative feelings and thoughts. Just imagining it made Ryan uncomfortable with the idea of Ray being stuck there any longer. Like Ray had told him weeks ago, everyone knew you, and you knew everyone.

There were never secrets in the town for long. It was time to move on.

 

His words caught the younger’s attention, Ray looking up and searching Ryan’s eyes for lies and mistrust. He saw none other than concern and something deeper.

Ryan continued, “Let’s leave. This motel’s shit, and so is this town. Let’s run away together. I can show you the world.”

It made his heart pump faster when Ray gave him a small, yet genuine smile. Ryan held out his hand with raised eyebrows, anticipation in his eyes.

It made the taller grin when Ray didn’t even hesitate to slip his smaller hand into Ryan’s, meeting his gaze with trust and maybe something else that Ryan didn’t recognize. Whatever it was, it gave him a sudden surge of affection.

 

“A dazzling place I never knew or some shit like that,” Ray laughed breathlessly, the light slightly returning to his eyes. Ryan swore his heart fluttered.

“Let me take you aw-ray,” Ryan chuckled, thumb brushing over Ray’s knuckles. The younger’s hand only gripped tighter.

“Shut the fuck up. That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Ah, but you love my cheesiness.” Ryan grinned.

Ray rolled his eyes, small beginning of a smile working onto his face and something like fondness in Ray’s eyes. Ryan looked away, though, smiling to himself in success. Ray was eventually letting the anger and sadness drain out of his system.

 

“But, come on, let’s get you out of here. We can stop at a pancake house or something.”

Thus, Ryan brought Ray back to his motel room. Ray busied himself with the television while Ryan packed his backpack.

Ryan shoved the money he’d recently gotten in his bag and along with the little shampoo bottles and shit from the bathroom. He piled in the handful of clothes he had, waiting till Ray shut off the television and stood, back heavy with the Xbox shoved in his backpack.

Ryan bit down on his lip, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re going to need something bigger than a motorcycle.”

“Do you know how to hotwire a car? That would be really helpful as fuck.”

Ryan smiled a bit. “I haven’t in awhile.”

“Time to impress me, old man.” Ray chuckled.

 

They left the room for the last time, Ryan locking up and kicking one of the keys under the door, Ray aimlessly throwing his key to the motel room into his backpack.

“Why are you keeping it?” Ryan asked as they bounced down the stairs, heading directly towards a pickup truck sitting in the back of the lot.

“It reminds me of meeting you.” Ray shrugged. “It’s the only happy memory I now have of this shitty place. Why’d you kick yours under the door?”

A shit-eating grin formed on Ryan’s face. “Leave no evidence.”

 

Dark eyes wandered the town as Ryan began to pick the lock after he had broke into one of the closets to find supplies to fuel their adventure.

It was weird to see the place where he lived his entire life in a new light, a negative one at best. He could remember the memories of him and his mother standing at the traffic lights, only blinking back the tired tears back and turning his head to move on.

He felt like a complete stranger.

Ray turned his head to look down at Ryan, who had crawled into the car and had a bunch of wires out by now, head underneath the dashboard with his ass in the air. Ray couldn’t help but smile to himself as the temptation grew to give Ryan’s rear a small, playful smack, but decided against it. Ryan would probably tickle him to death or whatever a big softie like him would do in revenge.

Coming to a conclusion though as his mind came back to reality, he wouldn’t mind being on the run for a while. From what, he wasn’t sure. Probably from his problems. Ray wouldn’t mind that. He worked well with Ryan and thoroughly enjoyed his company. Forgetting his past life would be fucking simple. He didn’t like it anyways; it had been utter shit.

That was okay. He was glad to move on.

 

His attention was captured when Ryan revved the engine, throwing his bag onto the floor and patting the seat besides him.

Ray climbed in next to the taller, placing his bag on the floor next to Ryan’s.

They settled into a comfortable silence as Ryan pulled out of the parking lot, doing a double take to make sure the owner of the pickup truck hadn’t been alerted that his ride was stolen.

Ryan drove them to the gas station across the street, got out, and quickly filled up the car and the petrol can sitting in the truck just in case they needed that later. As soon as that was over, he got back into the driver’s seat and drove them onto the expressway.

Ray looked through the rearview mirror as they left. A sudden dread and bile rose into his throat, heart breaking all over again at the fact he was sure he would never see his mother again.

 

He almost jumped when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. He turned his head eyes meeting crystalline blue ones.

Ryan smiled at him, rubbing a small circle in his shoulder blade. “Take a nap for me, please? You look fucking exhausted, and I’m assuming you got no sleep.”

“You’re right,” Ray snorted, getting cozy in his seat. “We should have brought a blanket.”

Ryan let go of his shoulder, hand returning to the wheel. “It may be a while, but I’ll get off on the exit that has a mall or some shit.”

“I would like one that’s fleece. Maybe has Spiderman on it or something.”

“How about one with the cars from that shitty Disney movie?”

Ray snickered. “You mean _Cars?_ ”

“Whatever,” Ryan laughed, “fuck off and go to sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get to the nearest stop, pancakes or a blanket.”

 

Ray nodded tiredly. That sounded okay. He yawned, snuggling into his hoodie. “Play some music, please, otherwise I’m gonna think too much and I’d like to forget.”

“Anything for you,” the other replied teasingly, soft music coming into the speakers once the older found a quieter station. Ray found himself falling asleep in seconds; the buzz of the radio and the image of Ryan in the soft dawn light imprinted on his brain lulled him to sleep.


	5. Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haven't updated this in a while. i've had this sitting around for a long time, and a friend edited for me back in October.
> 
> the rating has changed from teen to mature, and a warning of graphic violence that might come a bit the ways down if i ever decide to continue this. thanks <3
> 
> edit: my tumblr is myans.tumblr.com if you'd like to get in contact with me!!

It became apparent after a couple days of traveling around the United States that he finally, properly understood why Ryan stole money without remorse.

And with two people who were hungry almost all the time--despite Ryan’s coaxing to make sure Ray ate--they needed to keep the funds rolling in to sustain them.

Ryan taught Ray everything he knew, all the old tricks in the book to the new: lockpicking, pickpocketing, best places to hide—everything. If Ray wanted to survive, he was going have to know the skills to fend for themselves.

Ray hadn’t felt guilty they first time he came with Ryan to rob a drugstore or convenience store. The adrenaline had been enough for Ray to gladly agree to keep doing it with his friend.

It became a routine between them, Ray would drive during robberies and Ryan keep on the lookout for the police.

“Uh, we want to get onto I-80,” Ray said, map sprawled out on his lap in the pickup truck.

“Not I-76?”

The older was driving, sitting up straight in his seat as the passed the turn for the latter interstate.

Ray shook his head. “Nope, unless you don’t want to go into the nearest town...”

“I do. The motel actually has a swimming pool this time,” Ryan glanced over just in time to see a smile break on Ray’s face.

“Finally,” Ray said.

“We won’t in there too long, so let’s swim tonight and first thing when you wake up, we’ll hit a place and keep going on I-80 to Los Santos,” Ryan mumbled, changing lanes.

Ray held onto the map tightly at Ryan’s reckless driving. The last stop had been six hours ago.

“Let me drive, Rye,” Ray folded up the map. “You need to rest.”

He could see Ryan’s reluctance as he pulled over on the side of the sideway. “Just wake me up when it gets too dark, okay? And try to drive like a normal human being so we don’t have to speed to miss the cops.”

Ray got out, switching sides with the taller man. He slid into the warmed seat, changing the gear from park to drive, foot on the break. He adjusted the rearview mirror as well as the sides before easing the gas.

Ray drove for about an hour until they reached the town, the fluorescent lights from the buildings illuminating the road as he pulled up to the motel. He didn’t bother to wake up Ryan who was sound asleep, opening the door to the building once he got out.

The girl was younger than him, and it made Ray smile painfully as she looked up at him with an expecting look.

“Name?” She said, blowing a pink bubble.

“Ray… Haywood.”

The girl raised an eyebrow in question at the hesitation. “Beds?”

“Two, but one’s fine.”

“Choose.”

“One.”

“How many nights?”

“One.” Ray grumbled.

Her hand was held out and Ray followed the cue, rummaging through the wallet in his pocket until he pulled out a credit card via some man Ray had pickpocketed one day. Fortunate from them, the man either hadn’t noticed that there were some suspicious charges on his card or forgot how to isolate it.

The girl slid it and handed it back, leaving a sickening smell of bubblegum in her wake that almost made Ray gag.

“Room 110. Off to the right. Enjoy,” She said boredly, dropping the keys to the room on the counter.

Ray took them in his hand, quickly walking out of the building and breathing deeply in the smell of mildew and petrichor. He didn’t have to walk far, having parked right in front of the motel since in a town like this, no one else would be coming by.

He spotted Ryan awake in the front seat, collecting their things and shoving some half eaten candy and bottled Diet cokes into empty pockets of their bags for later.

He rounded the car and slid into his seat with a huff.

“We all good?” Ryan asked with a yawn.

Ray nodded, trying his best to fight off a yawn thanks to Ryan. “Yup. 110.”

He drove them to a more deserted side of the motel, only one other car next to their stolen one.

Ryan gathered up their two bags, flinging them across his shoulders as Ray locked up the vehicle and approached the room. He shoved the key into the lock, waiting till it clicked, and pushed it open.

At least, by the smell of the room, it had been cleaned. It was a typical, beige colored room, popcorn ceilings, and the typical TV that still had a VCR. He couldn’t help but smile— they hadn't stayed in a crappy place in weeks, and with Ray’s birthday around the corner, it was a present to himself. It made him feel at home, all he needed was how to hook up the Xbox and have Ryan order them pizza. That would be perfect.

“Do you still want to go swimming?” Ryan asked, sidestepping the other so he could put their bags on the bed with a huff.

“Fuck yeah.”

It took them a little bit to get undressed and find a pair a short they would be willing to wring out later. Like teenagers, they bounced over to the swimming pool, stopping to the read the sign on the gated door.

“Supervision until 8 o’clock. Pool closes at midnight. What time’s it now?” Ryan asked, glancing over his shoulder back at Ray.

He rummage through his pocket, slipping out his phone. “Ten thirty.”

Ryan grinned, turning on his heel to reach for Ray’s hand and pull him into the fenced in area, closing the gate behind them. Ray giggled giddily as Ryan dragged him to the lawn chairs, the older emptying his pockets and letting go of Ray’s hand to do so. The shorter followed his example, discarding his glasses, and soon was down, walking over to the edge of the pool as Ryan walked to stand besides him.

“Don’t be a dick, jump,” Ryan teased.

Ray grinned. “You are what you eat.”

Before Ryan had the time to thoroughly process his words and or react, he jumped off the concrete and into the water, shutting his eyes to keep from the burn of the chemicals.

Slowly, he eased his eyes open, vision blurry from lack of glasses and the chlorine. The bubbles from the group ran besides him, fluorescent under pool lights, trailing into the distance of the pool. He let a large bubble escape from his lips, tilting his head upwards to see Ryan’s form looming above him through the waves.

Using the tips of his toes, he pushed off against the smooth surface of the pool, breaking the surface. Little did he realize how long he was down there, gasping for the breath of air, eyes slowly focusing on the grin that laid on Ryan’s face.

He watched as Ryan sat against the side of the pool and slipped in easily into of jumped, wading a bit into the deeper end. Ray followed after him, staying above water to watch the other’s smile grow as he came closer.

“Thanks,” Ray hummed. He looking around at the scenery, only the buzz of cars from the street and highway telling them they weren’t alone.

“No problem. I can’t believe we haven’t swam yet. I hadn’t thought pools were that hard to find,” Ryan said softly. His mouth dipped below the surface, blowing raspberries childishly.

“You thought wrong.”

“Indeed.”

“Breathing contest,” Ray said after a moment, eyes landing back on Ryan who was milling about in the water, relaxing.

A spark in Ryan’s eye flickered as a grin overtook his face. He stood up straighter to look more intimidating, but Ray was all too used to his tricks. He reflected the same shit-eating grin, holding out his hand.

“Loser drives tomorrow,” Ray offered.

“You’re on,” Ryan replied.

Ryan held up fingers in a countdown, and once down to zero, Ray gave a small hop before letting the momentum plunge himself down into the depths of the water.

He used his arms to keep himself under, observing that Ryan was doing the same too. And once he had a good position, his gazed dropped to the other.

Ryan’s blond hair, longer than it had been when he first met him (he should really start putting it in a ponytail), bellowed in his face. It curled around his chin and ears, moving with the small currents admitted from the water.

Ryan soon matched Ray’s gaze, smiling.

What felt like minutes went by, and the longer the time dragged on, the more Ray’s lungs burned. There was a point he couldn’t take it any longer, desperately pushing off against the smooth floor of the pool. He gasped once he got to the surface, swimming over to the side of the pool to onto it for leverage.

He heard Ryan’s panting and the movement of water as he came up besides. “It was meant to be.” The other chuckled.

After getting his breath, Ray grinned, and skimmed his arm across the surface of the water to splash Ryan directly in the face.

For Ray’s sake and the constant complaints, Ray stayed in the shallower end, refusing to go deeper. Maybe when they had more time Ryan could teach him to properly swim, not his weird probably cringe-worthy attempt at swimming.

In a flash, time went by. Soon the girl at the front desk appeared at the gate of the pool, forcing them out (despite both the men being a giggly mess from their water fight and constantly playing chicken like kids) and quickly gathering their stuff.

She had rolled her eyes as they exited the pool earlier, locking up the gate and then boredly proceeded to her car.

“I’m tired,” Ray complained, feet bare and drenched, standing in the middle of their hotel as Ryan pulled out clothing for the both of them.

“Take your shower first, then go to sleep,” Ryan said and handed him his clothes.

Ray nodded. “Just don’t lay on the bed. You’re soaking wet.”

“I’m wet for you, Ray,” Ryan grinned.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ray grunted, heat rising to the cheeks and closed the bathroom door.

It was too early when Ryan shook him awake.

Ray laid in the bed until he could hear Ryan’s footsteps across the floor, pushing Ray in the shoulder. “Get up,” the other gurgled.

Ray cracked an eye open and turned his head to see what was impairing his speech. Ryan had a towel draped around his lower body and shoulders, toothbrush in his mouth.

He shot a glare when Ryan’s eyebrows knitted, burying his head back into the pillows. Ryan pushed him again, sitting down on the bed next to him. “Come on, get dressed. I want to hit the store as soon as we can, the sooner we get out, the better.”

Ray groaned in reply. Eventually he got out of bed, slapping on some shorts, checkered vans, and a new black hoodie he’d stolen from some souvenir store in one of them many stops along the way.

“They’re not going to have any money in the cash register if we go this early,” Ray murmured as he watched Ryan get dressed. The taller threw on a shirt, picking up their bags and heading towards the door.

Ryan shrugged in reply. “It’s alright, it’s a 24/7 place. If we don’t get a good enough take, just mug the cashier or anyone in the store.” Ryan opened up the door, ushering Ray out quickly and locked the door behind them.

The younger’s eyebrow rose in question, eyeing Ryan suspiciously. “Do you plan on like taking hostages or something if we don’t get enough money?”

Ryan grinned. “There’s an idea.”

“That doesn’t answer my question!” Ray huffed, crossing his arms as they approached the car.

"Are you ready?" Ray said slowly, hands slipping into his pockets.

Ryan pushed open the convenience store's door open, holding it for Ray who slipped in between.

"Okay, what the fuck do you want?" Ray muttered and began walking down the aisles, Ryan following after the shorter man.

Ryan didn't answer and plucked a bag of sour patch from one of the sleeves. "Think fast," he chuckled, throwing the bag to Ray who almost got hit in the face with it.

Shooting him a death glare, Ray began to walk over to the cashier, placing the candy on the counter.

Ryan moved over to a man shopping into the store— leave no evidence— and grabbed him from behind, the man's choking sounds attracting the attention of the cashier.

"L-Let him go," the cashier squeaked, pulling a gun shakily from underneath the counter. Ray leaned against the counter, drumming his fingers on idly.

He shot the cashier a irritated look with a small scoff. "Hurry the fuck up."

The cashier turned to Ray, pointing the gun at the younger as Ryan began strangling the hostage. The cashier's eyes wavered between the two of them, Ray glaring as if this had happened a million times before.

"Get the fucking money, Ray," Ryan hissed.

Ray bent down, the cashier's gun still trained on him. "Stop it."

Ray smiled reassuringly, untying his shoe and placing it on the counter. "I'm just taking off my shoe."

"What are you trying to do? I-I'll call the cops if you pull anything!" He stammered, voice cut off short when Ray slammed the shoe into his head, sending the cashier into a daze. He climbed over the counter, pinning the cashier to the floor. "Give us the fucking money." He snarled.

Ray smacked the gun out of his hand, slipping it into his back pocket, too busy scuffling on the floor to notice they choked noises coming from the other side of the store. Tentatively, Ray pulled off the man and the cashier stood up, desperately scrambling to put the money on the counter.

Once the money was in a shopping bag in the counter, Ray grabbed the gun and quickly slammed the butt of it into the man's head, distant sirens echoing in the distance.

Ray stared at the blood oozing from the wound on the cashier's head, shakily turning around to see Ryan walking towards him, wavering grin on his face. Ray hesitated before meeting those blue eyes, reaching out first to grab the money.

"I might have killed him," Ray mumbled, eyes darting to the cashier. He moved fast, climbing over the counter. "So, here, fucking take it," he grumbled and shoved the gun into Ryan's empty hands.

Ryan swallowed thickly, cocking his head to the side to bring the body on the ground to Ray's attention.

"Fucking Christ."

"It wasn't my fault he had a weak neck. I thought he would make it to being unconscious."

"Ryan, please."

"I'm surprised you couldn't even hear him groaning," Ryan grinned, eyelids drooping.

Ray jerked forward and grabbed his hand, sprinting towards the exit and out to the car. "You're firing the fucking gun; I'll drive."

Ryan nervously bit his lip. He reluctantly climbed into the passenger side as Ray revved the engine, not trusting his skills, but once he saw the police in the rear view mirror, the adrenaline began to pick up.

The car skidded before it fired off. Ray slammed his foot in the pedal and it took Ryan minutes to get a grip. The police had pursued them even more, trying to match the pace, but they were speeding ahead.

However, their lead didn't take long to falter. More police came out of side streets and from around sharp turns as Ray began to drive them outside of the town, trying to put drive them. But all there was was an open road ahead, and nothing to prevent the police from catching them once they ran out of gas. The nearest town was miles, and they could possibly get there, but the town was sure to be on the alert for them by then.

"Ryan," Ray snarled, swerving through cars and streets alike, "fucking shoot the gun."

Ryan nervously fumbled with the plastic in his hands, shaking with excitement and nervousness as he copied the stances he'd seen so many cops do before. "I-I don't think I can."

"Ryan, I swear to god if we get arrested I'll skin you alive."

"You're not helping!" Ryan shouted as he was slammed against the door in a sharp turn from Ray, hearing their car starting to get peppered with warning bullets.

"I'm going to kill you—"

"Hold on!" Ryan yelled.

His fingers tightened around the plastic, sweat making his grip falter. He rolled down the window quickly, sticking the gun out. "Here goes fucking nothing."

It felt natural and comfortable, and instantly, Ryan knew he was addicted to the feeling. The gun was power, and aiming for pigs and car tires made his heart road in his ears. He could hear Ray's cheers once he actually hit a tire or two, and at one point when they finally exited town, a car spun and hit another police car, sending an explosion rippling between the two. A grin spread into his face. All this power belonged to him.

They drove until the adrenaline boiled down to a simmer, and the two tumbled out of their car in the middle of nowhere, laughing their asses off to expel the nerves and excitement, basking in the afterglow of their actions.

Once they got a hold of themselves, Ryan grinned. "Let's drive for a bit and get into the nearest hotel. We'll see our money then." He jutted his thumb back at the bag and mirrored the smirk on Ray's face.

The bills quickly slid through Ray's fingers and onto his lap. He sat crisscrossed on their king sized bed in the shitty hotel, finally acing the other bill down and grinning up at Ryan who was pacing the room.

"How much?"

"$1,453."

"Holy fucking shit," the taller of the two grinned, approaching the bed and looming over Ray, staring down at the money.

"Rye, let's fucking do this forever. You looked great with a gun in your hands, and with a haul like this, I could live off this shit," Ray smirked up at the blond, pushing the money off his lap and into the sheets of the bed.

"I'm all down for that," Ryan replied cheerfully, leaning down, eyes wrinkling at the smile on his face.

A comfortable silence settled between the two as they stared at each other, Ryan finally chuckling and hummed a bit. "You did a good job at driving, surprisingly better than last time, I'll give you that."

"Fucking christ, not everyone can drive as amazing as you," Ray chuckled.

"Touché," Ryan returned, coming a little bit closer till his knees hit the end of the bed.

A small, nervous smile slipped onto Ryan's features, causing an eyebrow to shoot up on Ray's head. Another period of silence fell on them, but this time Ryan was hesitant to talk.

"Hey, Ray?"

The shorter blinked, humming with interest. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Ray stared at him for a moment, eyes searching Ryan's. His heart palpitations in his chest, heat rising to his own cheeks. _Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit—_

Ray smiled shyly, averting his gaze. "Yeah."

Ryan closed the distance, and hovered about Ray's lips for a bit, taking in the moment to breathe the same air and the cologne that radiated off of Ray's kin. God, it took a lot of guts to ask and Ryan was grinning with excitement in anticipation. He had waited a while for this.

Hands cupped the sides of Ray's face, guiding him gently upwards. Their lips met, slanting against each other and make goosebumps sweep across his skin. It was quick and chaste, satisfying Ryan momentarily. It was better than he expected— Ray's lips were incredibly soft and warm, and his skin matched perfectly. He loved it, and he wanted more.

When Ray pulled away, heat covering his face, he was happy to hear him mumble out something.

“Can you kiss me again?”

Ryan grinned and Ray met him halfway.

 


End file.
